seven months
by frostfall
Summary: She'd drink and he'd smoke and they'd fuck until they'd be too tired to move. She'd wake up later with bloodshot eyes and her gaze on Finnick's gun, glimmering under the sun's rays. Sometimes, Katniss wishes he'd wake up in the middle of the night and put a bullet through her head while she sleeps. Cold but painless murder. Or she'd pull it on herself. SpyAU!


**I have been actually working on this for a year. I would've finished this sooner if writer's block hadn't been plaguing me. But since the release of Mockingjay Part 2 is around the corner, I managed to get some inspiration to finish it. It's a little unpolished since I haven't been writing for a long time. Warning for possible OOC-ness.**

* * *

Blood everywhere.

Broken limbs, loose teeth, eyes empty. Lips formed to say a word, a word that was never spoken.

 _Katniss_.

No, no, no.

She can't. She can't. She―

 _Katniss_.

She screams.

* * *

"Katniss, it's been seven months."

Seven months.

Seven months since she saw the bullet penetrate his skull. Seven months since she saw his body fall into the water. Seven months since she saw his body getting smashed between rocks and unrelenting waves. Seven months since she last saw his lifeless form.

 _Seven months_.

Katniss feels like throwing up. She tries not to show it. "And?"

Haymitch leans forward in his seat, with crossed arms and his gaze as hard as ever. "I'm assigning you a new partner."

A lump forms in her throat. Partners have always been trouble for her. Partners always leave their pain with her.

Partners, partners, partners.

Anyone who becomes her partner is in for a whole lot of pain. Just ask Peeta or Boggs or―

"No."

Haymitch cocks an eyebrow. "No?"

"No."

"Katniss―"

"Haymitch, I don't need a partner. I'm fine with working alone."

"But now you don't have to," he counters.

She scoffs. "I'm _better_ off alone."

Haymitch sighs. "Katniss, I know that you're still grieving. But―"

"I don't need a partner," she snaps. "You know me. You know well what happens to the people you assign me with."

Haymitch is quiet for a moment. "I know, I know. But you know this isn't my decision. It's Coin's."

 _Coin's, Coin's, Coin's._

Katniss barks out a laugh. "Apparently Coin still hasn't figured out that whoever works with me either loses a limb, a sense of a―a..."

She closes her eyes and inhales slowly. God knows why she loves to torture herself.

Haymitch isn't one for pity. He understands that in the world of assassins and spies, there is no room for pity. And so does she.

It is no wonder people tell them they are so alike, that they understand one another.

"Katniss―"

She interrupts him with a weary sigh. She doesn't want to know what he'll say. All she wants to do is crawl under her covers and sleep for all eternity. "Who is it?"

His grey eyes appraises her for a short moment, before flickering over to his desk top. "Finnick Odair." He says his name as if she already knows.

Finnick Odair. She knows who he is ― the ghost of a man she has never met, the tales that haunt him and the darkness that loved him in the shadows.

Her lips quirk to the side. "Where's he? Too big-headed to show up?"

"Agent Odair is currently out on fieldwork. He'll probably be back in fifty-three hours." Haymitch pauses. "But knowing him, he'll be back in thirty-seven."

* * *

Finnick is back in seventeen hours. She meets him outside her local Starbucks.

He's in a trench-coat, a black fedora propped on his bronze hair, a scarf wrapped around his neck, a cancer stick between his fingers and thirteen minutes late when he approaches her.

"Why would a fine woman such as yourself be outside on a chilly day like this?"

Katniss casts him an aloof glance. She wants to feel the cool breeze on her face. Starbucks is much too warm for her.

But he doesn't to know any of that.

"Well, this fine woman decided to stand outside on this chilly day because she wanted to. This fine woman doesn't see why it's this man's business to ask."

He slips the cigarette between his teeth and blows a ringlet towards the sky, making Katniss wrinkle her nose. She has never been fond of cigarette smoke.

"Maybe this fine woman and this man should go in and get some coffee together...and get to know each other better."

"Maybe this fine woman would rather castrate this man," she replies dryly.

He lets out a chuckle. "Good answer, Katniss Everdeen. Good answer." The smile gracing his lips doesn't waver.

Katniss nods. "Finnick Odair," she coldly greets.

He mockingly bows. "At your service." The smirk returns to his lips. He holds out his arm. "Shall we?"

She doesn't take him up on his offer and steps back inside. The aroma of roast coffee beans overwhelms her senses. She's never been fond of coffee itself, but she likes the smell.

Peeta is nursing a mug of hot chocolate and biting into a blueberry muffin in a remote corner when she approaches him.

"Hey," he greets her. "Is he here yet?"

She shrugs. "Outside. Might take a while. He's probably in shock that someone actually rejected his advances for once."

Peeta flashes her a grin. "Would've loved to see that." His eyes travel to his muffin and frowns. "This muffin needs more sugar. It's tasteless. And hard as rock."

Katniss pulls up a chair. "That is one reason why I don't like Starbucks."

"Katniss, you only hate Starbucks because they forgot your order."

"I lost five bucks to those scammers!"

"That was three years ago!"

Katniss is about to retort when Finnick comes by, slipping onto the chair between the two. "Hello, Mellark. How's the intel department treating you?"

Her body freezes but her eyes, _goddamn_ her eyes, travel down to his prosthetic. She still gets nightmares about that mission.

Peeta shrugs. "It's okay, I guess. Lots of stuff to learn. It's different from being out on the field, you know?"

Katniss bites the corner of her lip and scratches the inside of her palm.

 _Your fault your fault your fault_.

When Finnick comes back with his own coffee, Peeta hands them a folder each.

It's always the same old thing, either infiltration, theft, assassination, retrieval, information gathering, or even a random mix. Katniss wonders why she hasn't left this life.

Then again, this is the only life she has ever known.

This mission is of infiltration and information gathering – infiltrate Capitol's main building in London. Gather proof of their involvement in drug trafficking.

"Well," Finnick says after scanning the folder's contents. "Seems easy enough."

She inwardly scoffs.

He's forgetting one of the key rules of espionage and assassinations – never underestimate anything.

* * *

Unfortunately for her, it is easy. They're in and out of that hundred-storey building in less than an hour.

"Crane's security sucks," Finnick voices out in her hotel room later. How he got in, she doesn't know. "Either he has really poor judgement or is stupid and senile."

"Why complain?" she asks, stopping herself from further sharpening her knife to look up at him. "We got in and out just fine. No blood spilled, no injuries to take into account." She resumes her task. "Besides, you did say it would be easy."

"But seriously though, when I accidentally―"

"Finnick," Katniss says, exasperated. "Just shut up."

He pauses to waggle his eyebrows at her, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "I'll shut up if you kiss me."

Katniss turns back to her knife. "No."

"Can I give you one?"

She points the blade at him. It glimmers under the dim lighting. Just like his irises. "You wouldn't if you valued your life."

Finnick just flashes his pearly whites. It blinds her momentarily.

* * *

"Did I ever tell you that Finnick is an asshole?"

Peeta shrugs, fiddling with one of her arrows. "Nope. But you're not the first to tell me."

Katniss sighs, before drawing her bow. "Someone please tell me why he's my partner."

"Because of Haymitch?"

Katniss shakes her head. "If Haymitch was in charge, he wouldn't even let me continue in the field."

"True."

Katniss' arrow embeds itself on the dummy's head. Peeta hands her his arrow.

"Peeta?"

"Yeah."

She nocks an arrow. "Why?"

Peeta is quiet for a moment. "Because everybody deserves to begin again."

* * *

They're a success for the next months. Katniss supposes it's a good thing.

Finnick is as excellent as they say – he takes things serious when the situation calls for it, highly proficient in close combat and resourceful in information gathering. She will never tell him this but Katniss is especially grateful for his talent in acting. Ever since they have become a duo, she doesn't need to speak as much as before during undercover sequences. She's never not a good actress.

But he's still infuriatingly annoying sometimes, with unnecessary flirts and small talk and toothy grin. She hates his grin most of all. He looks like a total jackass with it.

But then there are times when his mask cracks and she sees him for who he is - jaded, tired and angry.

And then he patches it up and returns with another smile.

She doesn't blame him for hiding himself. It's the same for her.

* * *

"So," Finnick begins. "I never got to ask you, what's your favourite coffee?"

They're sitting at a French cafe, waiting for their target to show up. Katniss fingers the overly extravagant sun hat propped on her head. She makes a mental note give Finnick an uppercut for choosing such an outrageous headset when they're done with this mission.

One of her eyebrows arches. "You don't know?"

"Should I know?"

She twirls her 'engagement ring' out of boredom. The last thing Katniss wants to be is Finnick's fiancée, even if it's for undercover purposes. Sure, it's fake and all but it's hard to pretend to be in love with someone, especially when your heart is already iced and your acting chops are non-existent.

"Well, I _am_ your fiancée."

"You don't really drink coffee when we're together."

It isn't a 'really'. She never has.

"Maybe I don't want anyone to know. Privacy."

Finnick scoffs. "Privacy? Really, _darling_?"

Scratch that, she won't give him just an uppercut. She'll hand him a nice kick aimed at his groin. "Well I take what I can get, right?"

"Hm, true. Adds to the mystery and all." He takes a sip. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Do I have to tell you that too?"

He shrugs. "Why not? I'll tell you mine if you want."

Katniss leans back in her seat. "Okay then, what's _your_ favourite colour?"

"Green," he replies automatically. "Like my eyes."

She can't tell whether he's pulling her leg or not. Katniss rolls her eyes at his wolfish grin but her own lips can't help but curl upwards. "How vain of you."

She's thankful yet again for Finnick's acting skills and _yes_ , maybe his chattiness and banter. She wouldn't be able to pull off the romance angle if it isn't for him.

"But you still love me, don't you?"

"Apparently," she says drily.

He lifts his mug to his lips, subtly scanning the people behind her through his sunglasses. "Bitter," he states.

 _He's here_.

She barely nods. "Go and get some sugar then."

"Will do." Finnick stands, palming at his pockets. "Oh shit, I forgot my phone."

Katniss feigns annoyance. "Again?"

He flashes a smirk. "What can I say? I always can't think straight when I'm with you."

She doesn't have to pretend to show her disgust. He kisses her cheek. It's light and cool against her skin. "Be right back."

He leaves. She takes a deep breath before pulling out her own phone.

* * *

 _How is it?_

Katniss shrugs and signs, _I guess it's okay. Finnick is a prick though_.

Boggs' lips twist into a snigger. _Typical of him_.

They shift their focus to the children scurry around the playground. Their laughter fills Katniss' ears.

She wonders if Boggs still cries himself to sleep over his loss of hearing, that he will never hear Peeta's laugh again or her voice. She still does every now and then.

Boggs pats her thigh to grab her attention. _Don't be too hard on him. He's a good guy_.

Katniss sighs. _I know._

They turn their attention back to the children.

 _He's just like you_.

 _He's nothing like me_.

 _He's a survivor, just like you_.

 _So are you_.

Boggs shakes his head. _No. Like_ you.

* * *

Finnick grunts out loudly. The hand gripping her jaw doesn't loosen.

This mission is their first failure. They weren't careful enough to sense the watchful eyes on their silent forms, to gather more information on the situation. It's disgraceful.

She blames this on Peeta's lack of intelligence, Finnick's overconfidence, her poor judgement.

Another aimed kick to Finnick's ribs. He cries out. Katniss tries hard to block out past images. They fight back harder.

Cato's smirk widens. "Ready to tell me now?"

Katniss's eyes travel down Finnick's broken form. He doesn't meet her eyes. She shakes her head.

"So how about if I do this?"

He steps on Finnick's leg before twisting it. She hears something snap. Finnick screams.

Katniss feels numb.

"Now?"

Grey locks on green. "Go ahead," she hears herself say.

Finnick doesn't react, his eyes trained hard onto the ground.

Cato's eyes narrow, turning his attention back to Finnick. He tortures him until he's a bloody mess.

Katniss feels nothing.

* * *

She manages to break herself out of her cell and doesn't hesitate to put bullets into their captors' skulls.

She leaves Cato for last. She breaks his fingers and probably ribs. She stops to catch her breath, eyeing him, now a lump on the floor, drenched in his own blood from the tips of his blond hair to his white dress shoes.

Cato croaks out what seems to be a laugh before spitting on her face. A crimson tooth hits the bridge of her nose.

"So," he begins, his mouth twisted in a sneer. "The lovesick princess rescuing her knight for a change. How romantic."

That's when she pulls the trigger.

She finds Finnick later in his own blood and vomit. He's a disgustingly shade of green with blemishes of red.

She's murmuring empty comforting words in a haze, _we're getting out, can you stand, we're going home, can you walk._ It feels surreal.

They start for the exit. Katniss manages to call for backup when she stumbles upon their gear along the way. Finnick coughs out blood every now and then. She panics. He can't die, not on her watch.

No one can ever die on her watch.

 _Never again_ , she vows to herself as they are flying over the ocean later as she watches Finnick being patched up by medical.

* * *

She's on her third bottle when Finnick enters her room. His fingers around a short cigarette and bandages covering his body.

To say she's guilty is an understatement.

She doesn't question how he got in or demand he leave. Instead, Katniss take another swig before breaking the lengthy silence. "Finnick―"

"Don't," he interrupts, sitting on the edge of her bed, placing his cigarette on the ashtray next to him. The smoky scent invades her nostrils. "You were just doing your job," he begins without looking at her. "I would've done the same if I was in your shoes."

 _No_ , she thinks. _You wouldn't_.

He wouldn't.

"We finished the mission," he continues. "That's all that matters."

She doesn't reply for a long time. Instead, she grabs his face and smashes her lips with his.

Gale tasted like oranges and apples. Finnick is sweet like the sugar cubes he loves to eat, mixed with nicotine and the alcohol she drunk earlier.

It's foreign and new to her but intoxicating. She pulls him closer, hungry and desperate. But then his fingers is skimming the hem of her shirt and it snaps her back to reality.

Finnick isn't Gale. He'll never be Gale. Just like how she'll never be Annie.

"Get out."

Finnick is panting, his lips red and his eyes blown. They're too green. It blinds her eyes.

When he doesn't move, she pushes him out and slams the door behind her. She ends up crying into her pillow.

She never hated cigarette smoke as much as before.

* * *

She is sent on solo missions while Finnick recuperates. She doesn't mind.

In fact, she welcomes the change with open arms. She doesn't need him complicating her life. Her life is already complicated enough.

She doesn't need to add his face to the list of casualties caused by her.

* * *

"I kissed Odair," she tells Peeta.

He looks at her with an expression she cannot comprehend. She could never read what goes on in his head.

Katniss draws her bow and fires. The arrow finds the dummy's heart, announcing its victory with a hollow _thump_.

* * *

It's a couple of months later when Finnick is fully healed and is sent on a mission with her.

It ends in the worst way possible.

Katniss doesn't mean to kill him. Not at all. He's supposed to be captured alive, to be interrogated.

But Marvel's arms are around Finnick's neck, choking him, constricting him.

She has to, she _has_ to.

She means to shoot Marvel's arm, to release Finnick from his captivity, to wound him.

The bullet passes through his brain instead.

Marvel's grip slackens and he's falling and before she knows it, he's pieces on the ground.

It reminds her too much of Gale.

She can't go through that again. She can't.

She _can't_.

 _Katniss_!

She tears her gaze away and throws up. She cups her ears and screams. She pulls at her hair and break into sobs.

Suddenly Finnick is holding her hair away from her face as she pukes and then gathers her in his arms.

"It's okay," he whispers into her hair. "It's okay. It's okay."

She buries her face deeper onto his shoulder, his presence a sudden comfort.

* * *

Both of them get yelled at and suspended for a month. Katniss wallows in her misery in alcohol for the first few days.

On the sixth evening, she finds Finnick in an empty training room, sober and desperate and scarred, and before she knows it, she's drags him back to her room.

They fuck.

It's rough and hot and comforting in a way and Finnick is a wonderful distraction. For a moment, Katniss forgets, about Gale, about her suspension, about everything.

As soon as they are done, he pulls away and reaches for his clothes on the floor.

She reaches for his hand. "Stay."

Finnick stares at her, torn. "It's a bad idea."

" _Please_."

 _I can't stay alone anymore_. _He haunts me. They_ haunt _me_.

He sighs but doesn't move to leave. Instead, he lays her down on her bed and climbs in himself. He lets her tuck her head under his chin and intertwine their legs.

For the first time since that day, she sleeps soundlessly.

* * *

It becomes a routine.

She'd drink and he'd smoke and they'd fuck until they'd be too tired to move. She'd wake up later with bloodshot eyes and her gaze on Finnick's gun, glimmering under the sun's rays.

Sometimes, Katniss wishes he'd wake up in the middle of the night and put a bullet through her head while she sleeps. Cold but painless murder.

Or she'd pull it on herself.

It's just so tiring, existing.

Sometimes she'd wake up in the middle of the night screaming for _him_ and Finnick would hold her until she stops. Other times he'd scream for _her_ and she'll hold him.

Neither speak of it when the sun rises.

But this routine helps her forget about everything, though only for a moment. Katniss thinks it's the best thing to keep poisonous thoughts at bay for now.

But she really does wish he'd kill her. Then she wouldn't need to think at all.

* * *

"Annie loved the sea."

Finnick never spoke of his ghost before. This is a first.

His fingers are quick and nimble, untying and tying knots, in the quiet twilight. Seldom does he tie. He always preferred his cigarettes to Boy Scout knots.

They have completed their first mission since their suspension ― assassinating President Snow in his own home. They have also just finished fucking, the musk of sex still evident in the air.

Katniss glances up at him, searching for any signs of pain. His face remains passive.

"Gale loved the forest."

This time, it's Finnick's turn to give her a surprised look. She tears her gaze away from his.

They return to the quiet. It's better than filling it with words of the dead.

* * *

Their last mission ends in disaster.

She doesn't remember most of it, only bits and pieces, blurs of images swirling around her.

But she clearly remembers a fire, a roaring fire blazing around them.

And shaking Finnick's body and screaming in his face.

Because she failed him like she failed Peeta, Boggs, _Gale_.

She failed him like she failed everybody else.

* * *

"I'm quitting."

She expects Haymitch to rebel, to convince her to stay, to yell, plead. Instead, he sighs heavily.

"Kinda figured you'd be resigning soon." Katniss opens her mouth to defend herself but he cuts her off. "I get it, I get it. If I had your balls, I'd do it too."

"You could always grow some, you know."

Haymitch smirks. "I love my balls just the way they are, thank you." He pulls open a drawer and reaches for a file. "I readied some files, just in case you ever want to...you know."

The old man knew. He _knew_.

People are right – they do understand one another.

He holds out a hand. "It was nice knowing you, Everdeen."

She doesn't shake it. Instead, she pulls him into a hug. He takes a step back in surprise but wraps his arms around her.

"You too, Abernathy."

They stay like that for a while. And all Katniss could think is how much she's going to miss him.

Eventually, he pulls away. "Coin's gonna be pretty pissed that her top agent is quitting. I'll try to pacify her. Or come up with a reason that she'd accept."

Katniss is already at the door. "You do that."

She's about to step out when Haymitch calls her name.

"Katniss," he repeats. "About Finnick..."

He doesn't continue. Katniss pauses for a long second, her eyes not leaving the floor, and closes the door behind her quietly.

* * *

Out of all the jobs Katniss expected to work as after _that_ , she'd never think she'd be a barista in a hipster coffee shop.

Well, maybe it isn't so bad. After all, she gets enough pay and free food and drink and listens to all the indie and folk music that plays.

Katniss doesn't even need the job, her pension provides her with enough money to last a lifetime. It's just a job that'd keep her hands and thoughts busy.

And thankfully, it's not at Starbucks.

She is too busy wiping the counter when she hears the sound of a throat being cleared behind her.

"Oh sh―! I mean, sorry, I was preoccupied." Katniss takes a deep breath and lifts her head. "Welcome to..."

She trails away, her body stiffening at the sight of a person she'd never thought she'd see again.

Finnick.

Finnick _fucking_ Odair.

He looks well, with strands of blond sticking out a beanie and his green eyes sparkling with surprise and mischief. But Katniss also sees the light bag under his eyes and the paleness of his skin. It's odd that she can still see all that. It's been a while.

"Hey, there," he says, his shocked expression suddenly twisted into a more flirty one. "I don't really come by places like these often so I don't really know what's worth getting. What would you recommend?"

She fights to roll her eyes. Some things apparently hasn't changed. "The caramel macchiato is the best seller."

"No, I don't mean that." He leans over the counter. She almost welcomes his salty scent. "What's your favourite drink?" His eyes drop down to her name tag. " _Jennifer_?"

Katniss jerks back. Finnick laughs. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I just want to see if your cheeks still look like tomatoes when you blush."

She about to give him a nice retort when her manager comes in, asking if she's being harassed.

Another good thing about working at this place is that her manager _cares_ about his employees.

"I'm fine," she says, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "He's a friend."

Her manager eyes Finnick over one more time before turning away.

Finnick exhales. "Quite a boss, you got here."

"Oh shut it." She pulls out a Sharpie. "Fine, I'll get you what I like. If it'll get you to stop pestering me. Your name?"

He grins. "Sam."

 _Sam_.

"That'll be 4.50."

He hands her the money. "So, when does your shift end?"

She cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

Finnick shrugs. "Well, just wondering."

"Six," she says, moving to make his drink.

"You're free, right?"

Katniss scoffs. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"And if I am?"

She pauses. It's been a while since she went on a normal date. She never bothered to go on one after her retirement. She always thinks she's too jaded for a regular life with someone...normal.

But Finnick isn't someone normal. He's...he's...

"I don't go home with people on first dates. Or take anyone home."

He grins, all Cheshire-like. "Well, I can be pretty persuasive."

Katniss doesn't remember how many times she has rolled her eyes at him today. She hands him his drink. "Funny."

He sips before raising an eyebrow. "Is this hot chocolate?"

She smiles. "I'll see you at six."

* * *

He shows up five minutes early. They go and watch a stupid comedy that leaves Katniss' stomach in pain and then to a diner that serves the best coffee around after.

She never thought of doing something normal with someone she knows from _then_ on her own accord.

But here she is, chatting with him in the diner until it's one in the morning.

It's all so nice. She's never seen Finnick lower his guard down before this. He's so much sincere and open. He jumps into random stories and laughs a little too loudly. It's just so _nice_ and jarring at the same time. She supposes she has to get used to it.

After all, this is the civilian life.

"So, you change your mind?" he asks her as they stop in front of her apartment.

Katniss ponders. She knows she shouldn't invite him in. And it isn't because of the sex. He doesn't need to know she still screams in her sleep. He really doesn't. He isn't obliged to help her through it.

But then she thinks back to all those times he'd hold her until she's calmer.

She wants that again. Katniss knows she's being selfish and stupidly needy. She wants to be selfish and stupidly needy, just for one night.

"You can stay," she says, turning to unlock the door. "But just to sleep."

"Just to sleep?"

"Just to sleep."

He's quiet for a moment. He probably knows. "Okay."

* * *

 _Katniss_!

* * *

She screams herself awake.

She screams and screams and screams and he holds her until she stops clawing at his skin and her throat is sore.

"Sorry," she croaks. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

He lightly touches the back of her neck with his lips. "It's fine," he whispers against her skin, his breath making her tremble. "You're fine."

She exhales deeply.

They stay like that until she falls back asleep.

* * *

He makes pancakes. She does the coffee and hot chocolate.

She's shoving a mouthful of pancakes in her mouth when Finnick speaks up in a surprisingly bitter tone. "So, do I get to see you again or do I have to wait for another seven months?"

She stills. Something must have shown on her face because Finnick quickly sets his cutlery down.

"I'm not trying to start a fight or anything," he says. "I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean to..."

Katniss sets her own fork down. "I didn't mean to―"

"No, I get it," he says, leaning away. He combs his hair with his hand. "You weren't ready. You couldn't handle it. Haymitch wouldn't tell you where you were. I don't blame him." He pauses. "Well, I did at first but I get it now. I really do." He sighs. "I just wish I could've been there to help you through it."

Her heart feels like it is caught in her throat. "Finnick―"

"I don't know what we are," he interrupts softly. His body language has changed to a softer one. "At all. But I don't want to say goodbye. I don't think I can do that again."

For a moment, Katniss stares at him, speechless.

His expression changes to a one of uncertainty and shyness. She'd never thought she'd see the day. "I'm crossing a line, aren't I?"

Katniss shakes her head before she moves to his side and pecks the corner of his lips. He tastes of pancakes, coffee and a hint of tobacco.

She's never seen him looked so surprised. If she isn't so caught up in the moment, she would have taken a picture of it.

"I don't know what we are either," she says softly as well. "But I'd like to find out, if you want to."

He smiles, not one of his stupid grins or seductive curls, but an _authentic_ smile. "I do."

* * *

She's goddamn aware he isn't Gale. And she's obviously not Annie.

He'll never be Gale. She'll never be Annie.

He's Finnick and she's Katniss, jaded and broken and beyond repair.

But having her head nestled on his chest while listening to their syncing heartbeats makes her want to believe that they _can_. Because he's Finnick and she's Katniss and she has never felt so _alive_.


End file.
